Concerto for Solo Cello
by Cassie Valentine
Summary: She had brought the cello home from school one day and the two had been inseperable since.
1. Chapter 1

_Prelude_

Her parents had fought over what instrument she would play.

Her father wanted something more traditional to reflect her Japanese heritage, while her mother preferred the piano.

She herself wanted the cello. They had attended a symphony concert a few weeks ago and she had talked of nothing else since. Unfortunately for her, her parents only heard that she wanted an instrument, not which one she wanted.

A few weeks later, she was late coming home from school and her parents started to worry. She, on the other hand, was all smiles as she lugged home the large instrument.

"I got it at school," she said with an even bigger smile as her father lifted it from her back.

"They let us pick out instruments at school, any one we wanted!" she said as she pulled on his hand to drag him inside so they could show her mother.

The arguments over instruments stopped that day and her parents suffered through weeks of screeching bows and sore, cracked fingers. Finally, the bow started to slide smoothly and the calluses formed on her small hands and the music began to come.

She was a soloist at the end of year concert and everyone cheered.

She played every chance she got, for anyone who would listen, even for only a few notes. Her parents began to wonder if she would do it professionally. The music came easy to her; those sensitive ears that had such a way with words also had a way with music.

They bought her a cello of her very own when she entered high school. They missed the music when she left for Brazil, as did she herself. The instrument sat at her parent's house in their living room.

"I don't want anything to happen to it at university," she said as she stroked the varnished wood almost reverently. She cried when she left it behind.

When she said Starfeleet had talked her into serving on Enterprise, her parents set about having an unbreakable case made fro the precious instrument.

"You'll never survive five years away from this," they said, remembering all the summers she had come home only to stay glued to the instrument for days on end. She agreed and her precious cello joined her in her adventure into space.

He had seen it shortly after they had come on board and was slowly wearing her down so she would play for him.


	2. Chapter 2

-1   
_First Movement_ The first few years on Enterprise were fairly calm. She played often and all fears of artificial gravity affecting the sound or hurting the instrument disappeared.

She found herself playing when she was homesick, which in the beginning was quite often. The melodies started out haunting and empty, taking on some of what she was feeling. But as the steel strings warmed and she relaxed, the music became brighter. 

The lone Vulcan aboard had stopped by a few times and expressed first curiosity and then pleasure in the music. She was pleased to hear her music move another. While the two of them almost never spoke during their encounters, they did grow closer.

The tall brunette couldn't help but comment that the linguist hadn't played for a long time after seeing all the dead aliens in their first year in space. She shuddered a little and commented that she couldn't concentrate with that image in head.

Although the Vulcan understood and never brought up the subject again, the images faded and music began to fill her soul and flow out through her fingers. It came slowly; the hard worn calluses had started to peel off and the strings bit into her fingers.

She nursed them after playing with warm water and bees wax, like her mother had done when she was a small girl. Slowly her fingers stiffened again and no longer hurt.

She was working her way through a Dvorak concerto when he rang for entry. He walked through her doorway, stopped and watched.

He had forgotten what he wanted when she was done.


	3. Chapter 3

-1   
_Second Movement_ She had blushed and hurried to put the cello away and tie her hair back when she finally noticed him.

This had given him enough time to pick his mouth up off the floor and remember why he was there in the first place.

"Yes?" she asked as she smoothed her uniform.

He stuttered for a moment or two before he got out that he had a report for her. She smiled and took the PADD from him and he made a quick exit.

That was the last time she had played. The Xindi came shortly after that and she no longer had the time or the want to play.

When the Xindi caught her, she would spend time wrapped up in daydreams of playing the cello again. When they injected the parasite to make her more pliable, she would hum little sections of her favourite pieces. While she remembered little of her time with the Xindi, she did remember that.

When she returned to the ship and well enough to go back to her quarters, she spent hours simply staring at the case. It earned some scuffs during the conflicts, a few dents, but no cracks. Nothing serious had happened to it.

"Play it for me," he said one night when he found her alone in the mess hall. She had stared at him for a long moment. "Come on, darlin', just a little."

She had sighed and begrudgingly agreed and they made their way to her quarters. He took a seat on the floor as she was in the only chair in the room.

He heard her heave a large sigh before she opened the case and another afterward. She fingered the broken string before she went looking for a replacement and found none. She stood for a long moment before he got up and walked over to her.

"Looks kinda like us, doesn't it?" he commented as he looked at it.

"I can fix that," she said quietly as she began to unwind the string from the pegs and the other half from the tailpiece. He watched as her small hands worked to tie the steel string back together. He watched as she tightened the knot and carefully restrung the cello.

She held her breath as she tightened the peg and tuned the string.

It held and she found her bow, tightening it and adding the rosin as he sat himself on the floor in front of her again and waited.


	4. Chapter 4

-1   
_Third Movement_ He hadn't asked to hear her play again since that night she tied her A string back together. 

She hadn't played much since tying her A string back together because she wasn't sure the string would hold together. But that wasn't the entire reason. Another part of it was because she just didn't have the heart to sit down and play.

More time passed. More healing occurred. The helmsman raised his eyebrows slightly when she had finally asked him to find her a new string. She requested a specific brand, but any string would do.

The boomer smiled as he handed it to her a few weeks later.

The Southerner was back at her door that night. He sat on the floor and watched, silently, as she removed the damaged string and replaced it. 

"Too bad we can't do that," he muttered under his breath, echoing the sentiment he uttered when she first repaired the string.

"Now I spend weeks breaking it in," she commented as she tuned the string.

He spent weeks breaking it in with her. He often brought a PADD to read when she played. He smiled when he found a chair for himself in the room one day.

"Do you want to learn?" she asked on day. He looked up at her, his blue eyes wide open for a moment before answering.

"Yeah," he said as he got up and went over to her. She stood and he took her place. He waited as she positioned the instrument between his legs and adjusted the endpin so it rested against his chest in the right spot. She taught him to hold the bow and where his fingers went on the strings. He learned the names of the strings and by the end of the night he could play a squeaky rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

He stood, very proud of himself, and she took the cello back, re-adjusting everything for herself before she sat down and play variation Z32 of the childhood tune. He laughed at the complicated song, full of slurs and pizzicatos.

He had a long way to go.


End file.
